


If you fall asleep

by Acidbell



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ...You'll get it later, Alternate Universe - High School, And Eren will have another later..., Cats are fluffy! ~, College Student Eren Yeager, F/F, F/M, M/M, Slow Build, Teacher Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Teacher-Student Relationship, i think!, levi has a cat, one eyed!Eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4820762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acidbell/pseuds/Acidbell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, greenish orbs rose in my head; such a beautiful mirage of my dreams.  I had this dream when I was still a child, when I played with the white and black piano keys and when I ran through the enormous house that my family had back then, while trying to hunt our cat, Melchior. On that day, an appearance was revealed in my night dreams; a human figure with green eyes that when exposed to sunlight became the color of a yellow delicious honey. The illusions continued every night, and I could see what he was doing, like I was a ghost haunting him, watching his everyday life; oddly, all with just an eye. From then on, I started working, sweating, struggling, all for an illusion. </p><p>But I didn’t (and still don’t) care, because every time I fall asleep, I’m submerged in your lime eyes, your appearance and all of your essence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A cold first day of school

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Potato-chan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Potato-chan).



> It's my second time updating... I've been re-writing! It's my first uploaded fanfic, so... If you don't mind, please give me some feed back! I made already five chapters, and I'll update once or twice a week. ;^^; If you like it just a bit... Then it's all worth it!
> 
> I made this to my friend Potato-chan. I love you, you know? You made me able to post it so... Yeah. >////

The lights outside rise and wake me from a deep sleep; Melchior jumps up to my bed and purrs loudly while stretching on the top of my crossed legs. I get up and I put on my fluffy slippers that my mom gave me. Suddenly, my phone starts ringing and I saw that she was calling. She starts asking about how things are going in my life, which leads us again to the cliché questions: 'Did you get already someone in your life?'; 'Have you left your house this week?'; 'How are Melchior?'; and of course, I answer with the same cliché replies: 'No mom, I’m still alone with Melchior. '; 'Without counting work, I didn’t need to get out of home, so I didn’t.' and to end it all, 'He’s going fine. Still fat, yet adorable.’ 

My mother is a nice woman; over-the-top, but nice. I get all of my looks from her; she has got a messy dark hair and a cold personality. I don’t consider myself as a cold person, I just don’t get along with every person I meet. She’s still a beautiful woman, and even with her white hair and wrinkles she’s like the young ballet dancer she used to be. Saying the truth, the wrinkles just make her even prettier. 

After a short period of time, I hang up. I’m sick of hearing that I should get a person in my life; that I should left home more; That I should work hard to be the most successful I can be. Mom, I already said that I’m okay alone; moreover, I’m okay with just my dreams, but it’s to earlier in the morning to talk about that. I like my life with just Melchior. I like staying inside, especially when it’s so cold and rainy outside. But I get it, I began a whole “kind of an anti-social” life; no social interaction unless forced and nearly all of my time is devoted to my work.

I go down stairs to the kitchen and pick a random mug and shove inside a lot of tea to keep me awake. The life of a teacher is really damn difficult and I have to stay awake after sleeping and average of three or four hours; believe in me, you doubters. Do you know how tremendously terrible is finishing planning lessons of French, English, Philosophy and Physics only at five in the morning? 

Steam rises from the white, blue veined glass teacup. There are mists of grey in the air while I blow my warm tea. Tea turned an obsession; what a calming chamomile flavor. Distracts me from everything and everyone, leads me to a world of anxious thoughts in my brain, this sweet taste of herbs with sugar. 

I did not expect to tell you this soon, my beautiful nonexistent public, but I have this thing that they (they, the clinical experts) call anxiety and a deficit of concentration, or as I could say, too many ramblings in a short period of time, actually. I’m fine with this in my life; I just thought that you maybe wouldn’t understand why I am always distracting myself when talking or thinking.

I switch off the radio; I really should stop listening Chopin before classes. It just distracts me even more, such a melodic piece of art, piano notes flying in front of my day dreaming eyes. 

As I go outside, I hide my hair under a bonnet and my neck under a scarf. The cold wind passes through my face, leaving a fragment of snow. I think that already snowed. I make a feature of disgust; I never liked the gelid draft. The only moment I appreciate winter is when I’m below four walls. 

Arriving at the metro station, I eye the board saying the next destiny: “Sina College”. Sina is the center of this district, known because of the largest events, the largest museums, the largest galleries, the largest everything and because of the state of atmosphere, always cold, rarely exceeding 30 degrees even on the hottest summer days. The “Sina College” is also a very well-known school, the most prodigious college in the entire district. 

I finally get in the metro. As always, I sit in the deepest corner. While listening Bach, followed by Schubert, I watch the metro going through the railway lines. Fume leaves my body, grayish vapors of carbon dioxide escaping from my throat. I rub my left hand on my right one, wanting to produce some warm energy. 

A person far away looks at me; a brown-haired woman, in her twenties, with big glasses falling down. She gives me a strange look. - Do I have something on my face? Is the way I rub my hands weird? - I don’t know, but the woman stopped watching me, just providing a small glance from time to time. Maybe she knows me. It’s true that I never memorize the trivial persons I meet, like store employees and related people. The only person that I know is the people from school and Gunther Schultz, the regular librarian of the Sina’s library, a library full of stories that even the oldest people can’t remember, an old world, new for everybody to read, written with words that sing in our minds.

Suddenly, I start remembering my dream. Again and again, I see what my illusionary figure does in his everyday life, although my dreams and memories are always just useless pieces of fragments. Things like a book with his handwriting, the food he eats, the color of his socks. Even with the stupidest dreams I have, I sometimes can watch him glaring inner my soul. I sometimes even have the feeling that he knows my existence, but he’s just a utopia that my brain created. Years and years already passed, but I’m still caught in his non-existence life. 

Reaching my destination, I let go my sit and walk off the metro. The woman that followed me with her eyes goes the same way I go. No, it doesn’t seem like she’s stalking me, she’s just walking to the same place, ‘Sina College’. 

Walking pass the gateway by showing my “id card” to a monitor, she does the same as me. I never saw her. - Is she a new teacher? – Then, she pulls her scarf higher, reaching her nose. It really is damn cold; I’m not the only one felling it.

The leaves left most of the trees, the only thing left are bits of snow from last night. The path to the interior of the property is illuminated by small lights on the floor. The woman passes me, never looking back. I’m finally out of her interest. - I truly hate people staring at me.

There are only two persons in the staff room, Petra Ral, my childhood friend, and Erwin Smith, the school principal. I enter the room right after that woman. What’s her name? I’m almost sure that she’s a new teacher. 

Petra glances at me with her amber-colored eyes. 

-Good morning Levi! Did you sleep well? You look tired. – She says, worried with my aspect. 

-Don’t worry, I’m okay. – I answer, lying a bit. The only person that I can stand talking openly is with Petra, but I don’t want her to worry even more.

-If you say so. – She replies, turning her head to the woman with glasses, introducing her. – This is Hanji Zoë, or just Hanji, a friend of mine and a new teacher in this school. 

-Hello. – I respond in a return politely, not looking directly in her eyes. – I’m Rivaille Levi. 

-H-Hi! I'm sorry for watching you so closely in the metro back then. – She says, giggling and rubbing the back of her head. - I was just wondering if you were that friend that Petra always talks about. You're exactly like she described! - She speaks; her joyful voice full of energy. 

-Okay. - I say, not exactly apologetically. I wanted to say something like 'Don’t worry, no problem', but I cannot say those words easily. No wonder people consider me cold.

The room has a scent of balm, one of my favorite fragrances. As I already said, I’m addicted to tea, but I’m not the only one, I passed my addiction to Petra.

-Are you making tea? – I ask, wondering if I’m right.

-Yeah, want some? – She interrogates me, already knowing the answer. When we were in the same dorm we used to cook a lot as the only ones that could cook something edible.

-Please. – I say, stretching myself to get closer and reach a random mug, made of balsam, glazed with a light blue ink. 

I drink it all quickly. According to my schedule, I will begin today with two Philosophy classes. As it is only the beginning of the school year and most of the students are new, an introduction to the school and a short discussion about a random topic to test the linguistic abilities of the freshmen will be enough to fulfill two hours of classes. 

I leave the small room without saying goodbye to a single soul. The hallways to the classrooms are full of loud brats. The wooden floor no longer shines, marked by footwear risks; the walls formerly bluish are mostly composed by white and gray spots of weathered paint. Even considered an excellent school, the physical aspect of this college doesn’t reveal it.

I open the door and only find two or three students sitting in the rusty chairs. There’s still more than ten minutes left until the classes begin, so I think it is normal that practically anyone’s here.

In the end of the room is a low-statured, blonde haired student watching another one while talking. He leans over the table to better observe the other brat in front of him, completely focused on his words. He wears a striped shirt with another gray sweater over it, a greenish pants and simple shoes with a buckle; oddly formal to a ‘normal teenager’ (what’s the meaning for normal anyway?), or as I call it, an abomination of germs and walking hormones, although he doesn’t look like that kind of pupil. His supposed friend also wears a green scarf, a blue woolen sweater with some random traits, tights pants and sneakers.

Distracted by the two students, the room began to fill with young people. I take the books of my bag and turn off my mp3, starting to hear the noise of cheesy words that are meaningless to my life.

This is going to be a hell of a day.


	2. Not just a meaningless “no”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren dreams and wakes, thinking in someone that he thinks doesn't exist. Hanji also comes by and talks about school. What's in the Jaeger's mind?  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm uploading now... It's not really much. ;__;

The sun outside wakes me from a good dream. It’s really early and it’s raining, snow leaves the sky and falls on the ground. As always, I dreamt of a short, black haired man with dark circles under his eyes in his everyday life and also in his past one. He’s some kind of a teacher, as it seems, often correcting tests and typing random words on a notepad. 

Years ago, people told me that I was left alone when I was three. They said that because of an accident (that I don’t remember and people refused to tell me), I got blind from only my left eye. Even though I don’t remind it, I once saw with both green orbs. Since that day, I started having dreams, nightmares, audio and visual hallucinations of a dark medieval past and an everyday life of a supposed twenty five years man and somehow I got too affected and I couldn’t (and still can’t) stop thinking in them; it’s like I already lived once and knew this strange human. Back then, when I was hospitalized, doctors said that because of the accident I got blind and one of the parts of my brain also got damaged, causing a kind of Schizophrenia, each provokes me hallucinations. After that, I went to an asylum and just got out there because of this lovely angel called Hanji, a creepy person (but the most wonderful I ever met) that somehow managed to become the adult in charge of me. Now, years after, I still won’t go to school and I study home because I can’t support the world outdoors. 

I don’t know what time is it, in the literal and metaphorical way. I put my glasses on and look through the lock screen on my phone, it says that’s already 4pm. But anyway, time doesn’t mean anything when everything doesn’t mean a thing. 

I pull up my white striped socks; it’s really cold, even for a winter in Sina. Then, I hear the wooden door opening; it must be Hanji. Sometimes she brings this woman called Petra, a sweet person - skinny, short and pretty - but still, I don’t trust anyone except Hanji (I’d also add my psychiatrist but I don’t really trust a hundred per cent in her). 

While listening to the footsteps until she meets me, I look at her funny (rather crazy) way of walking and jumping. 

-Hi, hi Eren! – She says; a big smile in her face. Then, she suddenly makes a more serious expression, but without leaving the warm smiling look, and starts speaking a bit seriously. – Hey, Eren, now that you’re sixteen, don’t you want to go to school? You know, I’m not forcing you, but don’t you feel like having a career in your future? Everything’s fine, do that does you! I’d love seeing you doing whatever you like; music, arts, science, sports; you can chose what fits you more, just be happy, Eren. 

After her little speech, I can’t just say that I don’t want to go because I don’t have the courage and actually hate other human beings (In general). That’s true, of course I want a career, I’d really like to be a musician or a painter, because both are, right know, almost the only ways of ‘talking’ to other people that I can stand. 

So, without speaking a meaningless mean ‘no’, I actually say what’s going through my mind. 

-Hum, Hanji, the truth is that I actually desire of being in a school, having a career, but I’m still scared of… Interacting. People wouldn’t like me. I’m ugly, I can mean, I don’t know how to talk, I’m blind of an eye, I’m almost a schizophrenic that listens things that don’t exist. You’re so good to me, Hanji, I don’t want to just say that I’m not going. I-I’ll try hard, to make you feel proud of me, I mean.

-Owwn Eren, you’re the cutest thing ever, don’t say such mean things about yourself! – She screams, happily jumping to me, hugging me tight, making me feel good and comfortable. – Don’t worry! You’ll see, school’s fun; then you’ll have lots and lots of friends, people in Sina are the best! You can go whenever you’d like to! When you feel like it, you can go with me just watching how things are; I’m a teacher, after all. – She encourages me, smiling like a fool and winking.

-Thanks Hanji. – I say, kind of shyly, scratching the back of my head.

-Always at your service, my captain! – She jokes and I kind of giggle making a strange sound. 

And just like that, I didn’t know my future would turn to be so strange in the next months.


	3. Curling in the bed sheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a night where Levi is lazy. (I'm sorry it's so small ;_;)

[LEVI'S POV]

 

The day in school finally ended.

I manage to go through the house’s entrance in high speed and literally go to my bed, snuggling in the bed sheets and floral pillows as quickly as possible. The warm fresh scent of the clean fabrics makes my heart beat slower, calming myself down. Melchior crawls up the bed and cuddles with me, his tinny paws adjusting the covers.

I don’t know if I’m making myself clear, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not like I don’t like being a teacher, I just don’t like crowed places, germs everywhere (yeah, I’m kind of a clean freak, let’s say the truth), that kind of thing. However, I love the smart people I met, knowing that I taught something to a person and now that someone is using the information that I gave them, in their future, it makes me a little bit proud of myself.

After sleeping for one hour in the fluffy bedroom with Melchior warming me, I get up. It’s 7pm, and I go down stairs where the kitchen is. The corridor is wakened by a smooth light which takes a few seconds to become bright. I pick up some random precooked meal and put it on the microwave; I know it isn’t a healthy meal but I’m too tired to care.  

All of a sudden, my mind starts clearing herself. I shiver; is this a memory or is it a dream? Again and again they haunt me; those eyes that you have, one strangely lighter and one purely green. With those eyes I see you talking to this person, a person that I can’t see. It’s all blurry, but I still can view your cliché white striped socks. In a flash, everything goes black, and another fragment of your life disappears from me. I can’t handle these things; are you sending me this link? Is it you? Is it because I did something? Why am I caught in this? I should just stop worrying with a fiction that I can’t have; you’re just a glimpse, _a meaningless glimpse_ I tell myself.

With thoughts in my head, hours run, I end up tied with your shadowed world; the only thing that whatever I do I can’t have is you, my dear imagined soul, but I continue craving, craving until I can’t anymore, until I fall asleep.

Without noticing it, I’m being awakened by my cat purring. It’s already another day.


	4. The black tea journey

Again; I’m awaken by the shitty lights from outdoors. Lately, I’ve been having more hallucinations, visual lies with this muscular body, black haired figure, a blurred face that I can’t see. As he haunts me, I softy watch it too. I can’t stand it; my mind can’t get rid of it, this creature. I still think that somehow, and don’t ask me why, this person is connected to me in some way; I don’t think that it’s a completely random vision, a thing that I created with no meaning.

I blink as my deep thoughts are interrupted by the illumination. ‘Stop thinking in that, Eren.’ – I command to myself. Today is the day that I finally listen to my psychiatrist; I’m going to interact with people _outside the walls_ (or outside the house where me and Hanji live, as you prefer).

I start with the basic: What to wear. Being a couch potato is easy, you don’t have to worry about how you look; but going outside is much more difficult, you have to be well dressed, but not too much to the point where you sound like an idiot. As I start taking clothes out of my wardrobe, my bed begins to full of washed tissue mountains with scent of lavender. The hill of clothing is so high that I cannot reach the things on the top of it; hopeless.

Steps come from outside my bedroom and I’m panicking; what will Hanji think when she sees this? But then I star ratiocinating. She already knows that today I’m going to try to achieve one of the goals of my list (I still didn’t say it, but the _list_ that I’m talking about is a paper with nine objectives that I’m trying to attain to complete my therapy. Oh, and I should have putted a number 10, but I can’t speak out loud, not even to my psychiatrist, that what I crave the most is to find one of my hallucinations).

She knocks while asking if she can come in. Obviously, I say yes.

-Oh… - Hanji moans as she observes the enormous pile of clothes lying one on top of another, making me nervous because I don’t know what she’ll think of me. – You’re working really hard to reach your objectives! I’m so proud. – And then she jumps on top of me, almost smashing my cheeks with her warm hands, patting me like I’m a puppy.

Sometimes, I forget that Hanji is the best person ever (and also a lazy and messy one).

She walks off, leaving me alone while I stare at a green scarf; I’m going to use it. I randomly start feeling better with myself; I’m a little more comfortable about this whole idea of going to the outer world. I also pick up a white cliché undershirt, an also white jersey, a pair of jeans and some brown shoes.

I put everything inside my closet again, like nothing happened. Now, the second step: going outside.

I look at the clock; It’s still early (1pm is early when you usually wake up at 4pm, okay?). My shadow follows me to the bathroom and I look at the lovely mess that my bed hair is. The lighter eye in my face doesn’t go the same away of the other; I just notice that I can see with only one eye when I’m gazing the mirrored reflection.

I stop facing me as I try to make my hair a little more normal; I don’t want to look like a freak. I’m going to eat something and then I’m going.

Blur comes out of a varnished, white plate with some curry from last night on it. I frown at the mount of onions in that; why did I put there so many? Even though already passed ten minutes, the platform’s still almost full; I can’t ingest any edible thing while I’m thinking of going outside.

The sounds of people talking, judging me; eyes haunting me even if I’m just another one; I’m howling to become invisible to any human eyes, I don’t want to be seen, I don’t want to exist in front of others, I don’t want anyone to suppose that I’m insane; I’m not! I’m not! I’m not!

I breathe in and out in a shuttle rhythm, trembling in fear, fear of being known by the society that I’ve been running way from since I remember. I initiate a count from one to ten, focusing on trying to calm myself down.

My brownish shoes make their way through the wooden floor to the front door of the building. There would be a day that I would have to leave, and I cannot wait until I start fainting and never be able get away of this madness that is my loneliness; get away from my mind where my thoughts run at high speed in the dark of a night in a closed, cold room.

I’m going now. I’m going outside. It’s now.

I surpass the invisible line that separates Hanji’s apartment and mine to the rest of the world. I go down the rusted stairs which lead me to the outside. There will be the real challenge.

The frosted glass door is opened by my trembling, hesitant right hand. The side street is filled with the soft and delicious sound of the calm leaves blowing in the wind. Snow covers the entire surface of the tour. People talk down without making eye contact with me; it’s like I’m invisible. So long waiting for the horror of the people looking at me, judging me, hating me, destroying me with their minds, with their eyes, with their words, but nothing happened. I remain a silent ghost in this gloomy winter weather, a calming figurant in a show called life.

My uncertain steps make their way to a random supermarket. I believe the name is 'Sina's Market', the town where I live. I pick up the grocery list from the small pocket of my jeans.

The supermarket is huge, full of lights outside, parking spaces, persons. I go through the glassed automatic doors and eye the crowed place. Inside these enormous white walls, people stand while buying trivial things. My breath becomes more inaccurate, reeling with the sound of purchases going through scanners, noisy people with noisy children talking, the heavy atmosphere in this space, my thoughts and the loud voices in my head.

Hallucinations start taking their roles in my mind; I have to calm down. “People won’t think anything about you. You’re just another one, remember?” I repeat to myself, but human interaction is too terrifying.

I look at the list on my hands that’s only written with two things; Black tea and a message from Hanji saying “Have good luck in your journey!” with a crappy draw of a smiling face.

I start walking inside the maze called supermarket and look at everything; I don’t want to step more than the necessary. When I finally view the aisle with tea and other herbs I run to there as soon as possible treading the varnished pale ground. The black tea practically shines in front of my eyes; I want to get out of here so bad.

After a tremendous difficulty trying to convince myself to pay the stupid tea in a cashier, I just give up and go to the self-checkout.

I get out through the same glassed automatic doors. It’s already 7pm and Hanji should be home by now. The street’s still barely populated, the snow’s still falling and I pull my green scarf up, reaching my cold nose.

Exhausted, I’m back to the apartment. I climb up the stairs illuminated by the frosted lights of the old building and I roll the key through the lock. As I open the door, I hear extremely loud steps making their way to me and a happy Hanji hugs me, making me fall on the ground.

-Welcome home, soldier! How did the expedition go? – She says, still on top of me, winking.

-Well, I’m barely alive but I have black tea, so I’d say that it went fine. I think. – I say, lifting the black tea to a lighted spot.

Then, after my epic moment of doing a completely normal thing that before I wouldn’t do even if you begged me, Hanji and I decided to watch some random show on the TV. I always like nights when I spend them whit her.

Hanji starts searching for popcorns in our messy kitchen. The dishes, plates and plastic boxes are all mixed and it’s hard to find the food that we don’t usually eat (we always put dishes and unusual food on the same compartment). Once she finds it, I gave her a little applause, which makes her smile. Hanji puts every corn in a transparent bowl and joins everything with an exuberant amount sugar.

Following her steps in the wooden floor, we land in the brownish couch of the living room with our bowl of warm popcorns. I reach the large remote control and give it to Hanji; I’m out of ideas and maybe she knows what to watch.

-Hey Eren, do you want to see an episode of something? – She wonders, turning her face to me, looking for my answer.

-Okay. – I simply say.

The hours after are a mix of watching the show and random short conversations about random things while episodes of Criminal Minds are playing. Then, we just got exhausted and fell asleep.

 

I get up and I gaze the lock screen of my phone which says that’s already 3pm. Everything is a blur and glasses meet my eye. My stomach grunts and I sleepily get up of the couch. There’s a small piece of paper in the table in front of me, and I pick it up: “I let you sleeping on the couch because you were sleeping so peacefully that I just couldn’t wake you up. I’m going to be home really late because I’m going to spend the night with Petra; don’t wait for me _. I love ya_ – Hanji.” And then there’s again a draw of crappy smiling face.

I leave the small paper in the glassed table and go to the kitchen. Today’s already Tuesday, I’m going to have an appointment with my psychiatrist tomorrow and I should start studying for that history exam that I’m going to have next week – even without going to school, Hanji found a way to keep me learning and having grades like a normal student, the only difference is that I just learn home (it’s the same for students that are hospitalized or can’t go to school for any other reason).

The kitchen’s all messy but still I find a way to reach a blue, cracked bowl from the high cupboard. I put some milk and cereals in it, putting more cereals than actually milk.

Suddenly, I start remembering. Remembering everything of the most peaceful dream I had in ages.

 

_DREAM_

The wind outside makes loud noises that are audible even from the basement, the place where apparently I am. I’m dizzy and a little sleepy, trying to focus my eyes on something because of my foggy vision after being awakened. The white, clean sheets have a pleasant scent of a person, a person that isn’t me.I lean my head to the left, finding a strong, muscular beautiful figure next to me. Strangely, I also see with my left eye, which surprises me at first, but then I realize that everything’s something from my mind, that everything’s a dream, a nostalgic one.  Different from others, it doesn’t end after I discover that’s a dream. With the power of controlling this world, I gaze the man next to me. Pale skin, dark hair; my haunting ghost. Like every other dream, I can’t see his face, I can’t see him clearly, it’s all blurry.

Bluntly, an arm of this beautiful creature wraps me and I moan of pleasure. It isn’t trying to hurt me in any way; it’s trying to make me stay in the bed by his side. As he wishes, I remain. It seems so cold outside and the blankets are so warm; why would I leave?

I start playing and making little braids in his soft, dark hair. I try to move my hand in his hair slowly and smoothly, attempting to not wake him up. Everything about being next to him feels extremely right, it’s like it’s fate; it’s like it’s meant to be, something that before I didn’t really believe that existed. He lures me, I can’t escape from his being; it’s like he’s a magnificent mermaid and I fell for his enchantment.

In an effort to adjust myself in the bed, I move my body next to him. He involves me again, now with his both arms hugging me from behind, his corpse supplicating mine next to his.  

-Eren, stay. – A rough, yet beautiful, voice tells me, almost in a ton of begging and I simply obey, returning to be by his side. I let my body sprawled in the sweet sheets and fall asleep, hoping to never wake up so the whole dream would never be able to disappear.

 

After that I don’t remember a thing, just the feeling of awaking up in the couch of the living room. And after hearing such a beautiful voice for the first time, I truly believe that I fell for his enchantment.

Why does he still haunt me after all this years of appearances; doesn’t he get tired? Why doesn’t he let me see his face? But still, why did it feel so right when I was dreaming? All the questions are formed in my mind, they all dive in a sea of cravings in my brain, but none of them have a proper answer. But, wouldn’t I be a haunting mirage for him too; always watching his everyday life and past life?

The cereals in the bluish bowl are undoing themselves in the milk and I eat them quickly. My mind is a mess as my bed hair and our house. I clean some dishes and go to my room, where I think about everything.

I look at the white ceiling of the room, wondering about going to school, about the advances with my social phobia that I’m going to tell to my psychiatrist and of course, I wonder about my haunting ghost that is always in the back of my mind.

I truly want to do something in my life, but my bad memories and problems are always exposed in a shelf in my brain and I’ve always to see them, remembering me why would someone want me in any school, a useless piece of trash that’s often falling apart with his own thoughts and concerns, making me not wanting to go. I don’t want to tell to my psychiatrist, Christa, a beautiful woman that turned out to be an inspiration to me, a person that tells me that if I exist, if I occupy space, it means that I matter, that even though I survived going to buy a humble box of black tea and didn’t freaked out about going like I was expecting, I nearly advanced with my social phobia and anxiety in this four years of therapy with her.

But anyway, I take a decision; I decide that I will go to school (even if all the noise and human apparitions scare me and I won’t make any friends and I’ll be all by myself, all alone), I decide that I’ll talk about my little and practically nonexistence advance to Christa I also decide once and for all that I will speak whit her about my beautiful faceless stalker hallucination.

I don’t care about the time and I stretch myself in the bed covers and drag them till my neck, arranging myself to sleep in a comfortable position. Then, I lie there until 9pm, sleeping in the middle of a winter afternoon.

 

Again, I wake up. I’m sleepy and dizzy by sleeping so much in a small period of time. I wash my face in my way to the kitchen. I cross the corridor to the kitchen, where the lights are on and Hanji is probably doing another mount of a random cake, and who knows why what more.

-Hey, Hanji, are you doing that delicious strawberry cake? – I ask, wondering because of the smell of fresh strawberries.

-Yes, you bet I am! I know how you like strawberry cake and I love doing cakes, so why not? Oh, and I also made strawberry cookies.

-Not that I care, but this looks more like a battlefield than a kitchen. – I tell while looking around, gazing broken eggs and large and small bowls of plastic and porcelain of all the imaginable shapes.

-Yeah, I kind of messed up a little bit too much, but forget it for now. Let’s eat! – Hanji says, already with a piece of pink warm cake in her hand, devouring it with a huge bite. Hanji’s always doing stuff for me; doing strawberry cake, passing time with me, taking me to eat ice cream or crepes (we always eat caloric food), making good morning pancakes.

I reach a knife and I cut a slice of the cake. I don’t bother about a napkin, so I just pick it up with one of my hands and I being eating while the pink cover falls slowly of my hand within my fingers. My mouth is filled with a strawberry favor with too much sugar, but it doesn’t really taste bad, is sweet and delicious, which is strange and kind of surprises me, considering all the times that Hanji burned deserts and other dishes (Hanji’s a little clumsy in the kitchen, to say the truth). Well, I can’t say anything, taking into account that in the best of the cases I can only do a sandwich with excellent skills of culinary.

-This is actually really good, Chef! – I praise her, looking forward to take another piece of it.

After the cake, we end up talking about innumerous subjects while cleaning the kitchen and I try to gain courage to say that I’ll go to school. I grip strongly my hands as I inhale; I’m going to tell her.

-Hey, Hanji, you know, I think that will go to school. I want to become something in the future, I feel lonely and I want friends. I love you, it’s not like I don’t, I truly do, but even though it’s my selfishness speaking louder, I want someone else. I think that I kind of want to follow arts.

-Oh, that’s so good, sweetie! – She tells me, smiling to me with truly joy in her sparkling brown eyes and a motherly expression in her face. I feel full of her love and I end up hugging her, telling her that I love her and I’ll be in school right next to her.

After a period of time with Hanji sobbing in joy, hugging me and us cleaning our messy kitchen, we’re exhausted and we actually eat more pinkish cake. We walk through the corridor to the small bathroom in the end of it. We both brush our teeth with disgusting mint toothpaste that’s probably already expired.

We go to our rooms and I lie in my bed sheets, speculating about everything again as always. The sleepiness comes and I let it carrying me to beautiful dreams where the everyday life of a special someone is waiting for me to fall asleep.

Dreams come and go in the next hours, and for some reason, it all feels calming, it all feels like everything is going to be alright, feels like wet grass through my tiptoes on a summer afternoon with the smell of pretty yellow flowers in the air. With those thoughts in my mind, I again wake up in the next morning, but the sky seems prettier by the cold winter morning and I face another day with a strangely good sensation.


	5. The subject of my dreams

It’s again a new day. The morning sun tries to enter through the blind that makes drawings of light on the warm blankets. Melchior is hidden under the bed sheets, trying to escape the cold weather. The wind does noisy sounds that irritate my awakening mood as my bare skin, scaring Melchior, which is wrapped around my waist.

Lazily, I get up. Different from numerous nights, I don’t remember what happened when I was asleep, something that doesn’t happen in ages. It’s a strange feeling that fills up my mind; I miss the feeling of being followed because I ended up attached to you by being haunted for all this years, my beautiful honey-eyed mirage.

Down the hall is the bathroom and as so I go there; my cold tiptoes touching the ground (yeah, I don’t sleep with socks even in the coldest season). It’s frosty and I hate this kind of weather, so I turn on the showerhead in the maxim temperature possible. The steam rises and covers the ceiling with himself, making the bluish bathroom turn in to a blackened color. Melchior, as always, puts his tiny paws in the water that fills the bathtub. I place my feet in the hot water that softens my entire pale body.

After the shower I do the same cliché stuff that everybody does; I brush my teeth, I gaze my messy hair in the mirror and ignore it, I put on a black striped turtleneck sweater and some classic jeans with a random pair of brown shoes.

Down stairs I drink hot black tea that ends up warming me. Wrapped in my legs is Melchior, with is fur touching smoothly the little space between my socks and my jeans as my skin is exposed.

With an empty mug once filled, I simply leave it there. I hear Melchior’s last morning purr, I put on my black furry coat and I exit the humble apartment. 

Streets are occupied with loud people and I step the floor groaning by the coldness of the forenoon air. Making my way to the metro station I go down stairs to the line that will lead me to the school and once again I see the eyes filled with glasses of the new teacher. She’s as well waiting to go to Sina where our work is waiting for us.

Memories of a dream run inside my mind and I remember the things that hours ago I couldn’t. Last night I had a dream, a lucid one; A dream where my dearest love lies in bed next to me and stays by my side in the warmed up sheets.

 

_\--_

Loudly, the wind outside of the basement is displayed in the air and I pull the blankets to cover my bare skin. The basement is cold as the winter and the stoned walls show themselves as platforms covered with humidity of the damp weather. I sleepily open my orbs and I hardly manage to open them properly. Even though I don’t remember, my body feels exhausted and is overgrown by galaxies of scars and bruises from an extreme body effort which I don’t remind of having done. The entire bed where I’m lying is warm and I feel a corporal temperature from the other side of the bed. I can’t move my body; it feels like I’m heavy and my members don’t react to the messages of my brain cells, although I can think and react in my mind, so it seems like a lucid dream.

 I start feeling a scent, a delicious scent of a body. The person next to me isn’t more neither less than my haunting green-eyed ghost in a form of a human. By this creature, my entire self is wrapped to him. I lean my arm to reach him and he moans in agreement to stay by my side.

Curious large hands make little braids in the back of my head, smoothly and attempting to not wake me up, but I’m already awaked and aware of his twee presence. His scent fills me in every way possible; the knowing that he is there, mentally and physically provokes me a strong needing of him being right here he is. 

The boy next to me moves a little to adjust himself in the blankets and my corpse supplicates for his as I cover him with me, hugging him from behind. Ramblings meet my mind - “Oh god how much scared can someone be? I’m scared, scared of losing him, of waking up, of losing my mind, of waking up and realizing that I should stop this fantasy.” – And I try to calm myself in this dream. Everything seems nostalgically right, as if it’s meant to be this way, we two together.

-Eren, stay. – I beg and as so my mouth moves by itself and these words are pronounced. My head turns blank and suddenly it turns again filled with this supposed name; Eren. Eren, is that your name? Why did I crave for so long and didn’t know your name, a part of your identity in life? The truth is that I don’t care, as long as you stay here, we both together in this nostalgic lucid dream. 


End file.
